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Saturday, August 31, 2013

Recently, someone I know told me he greatly admires my tireless efforts at reinventing and re-imagining myself. Although I didn't tell him so, it's something I learned from Jewish tradition, and I've been doing it for much of my life.

At one point during the summer after my college graduation, I received several different job offers at once. None of them was the right one for me and, thankfully, my parents encouraged me not to accept any of them, and to begin my search anew.

Bereshit...

More than a decade ago, after 13 years in a beige and boring marriage, I finally gathered enough courage to leave it all behind, moving home to the east coast to find a new job, a new home and a new life. I've never looked back.

Bereshit...

Each year, as we celebrate the birthday of the world, our tradition provides us with an opportunity to wipe the slate clean, to turn over a new leaf, and to make a fresh start.

Bereshit...

Baruch atah Adonai elohaynu melech ha'olam who allows us to reinvent, recreate, and re-image ourselves and to begin anew, again and again. Amen.Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a series
marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and
spiritual preparation for the new year.

Friday, August 30, 2013

Earlier this week, a good friend's mother reached the end of her life. It was more than unexpected -- tragically sudden, in fact -- made all the more so because my friend is to be married in October.

Ever since, the Unetanah Tokef has been echoing in my head.

This version from the machzor:

On Rosh Hashanah it is inscribed,
And on Yom Kippur it is sealed.
How many shall pass away and how many shall be born,
Who shall live and who shall die,
Who shall reach the end of his days and who shall not,
Who shall perish by water and who by fire,
Who by sword and who by wild beast,
Who by famine and who by thirst,
Who by earthquake and who by plague,
Who by strangulation and who by stoning,
Who shall have rest and who shall wander,
Who shall be at peace and who shall be pursued,
Who shall be at rest and who shall be tormented,
Who shall be exalted and who shall be brought low,
Who shall become rich and who shall be impoverished.
But repentance, prayer and righteousness avert the severe decree.

And this one by Leonard Cohen:

And who by fire, who by water,
Who in the sunshine, who in the night time,
Who by high ordeal, who by common trial,
Who in your merry merry month of may,
Who by very slow decay,
And who shall I say is calling?

And who in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate,
Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt,
And who by avalanche, who by powder,
Who for his greed, who for his hunger,
And who shall I say is calling?

And who by brave assent, who by accident,
Who in solitude, who in this mirror,
Who by his lady's command, who by his own hand,
Who in mortal chains, who in power,
And who shall I say is calling?

But more than just pondering the words of the liturgy, the circumstances have prompted me to tell people in my life how very much I appreciate their presence and their friendship.

To C, who offered to help plan a gathering when our friend returns to New York, I wrote this: "Life turns on a dime...and so thanks for your offer and for being my friend."

To E, who was at the out-of-town funeral because he always steps up to the plate for his friends, I said: "And with this sad reminder that life turns on a dime, I want to tell you how much your friendship means to me. Travel safely."

To S, who sometimes drives me nuts (and knows when he's doing it!), I added this postscript at the end of an email: "I was reminded this week that life truly turns on a dime and so I
just want to say that I appreciate having you as my friend. You're a
good egg."

And to V, who called yesterday during a work-from-home day, I reiterated the message: I value you as a friend and a colleague, and I'm glad to have you as part of my life."

And so it is that from this sad ending comes a new beginning, the focus of which is not only feeling gratitude and appreciation, but also telling of the gratitude and appreciation. In the new year, may we be blessed with good friends...and may we tell them just how blessed they make us.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a series
marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and
spiritual preparation for the new year.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker,
Make me a match,
Find me a find,
catch me a catch
Matchmaker, Matchmaker
Look through your book,
And make me a perfect match

Matchmaker, Matchmaker,
I'll bring the veil,
You bring the groom,
Slender and pale.
Bring me a ring for I'm longing to be,
The envy of all I see.

For Papa,
Make him a scholar.
For mama,
Make him rich as a king.
For me, well,
I wouldn't holler
If he were as handsome as anything.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker,
Make me a match,
Find me a find,
Catch me a catch,
Night after night in the dark I'm alone
So find me a match,
Of my own.

How did you meet your match?!

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a series
marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and
spiritual preparation for the new year.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

What will you dare to dream?

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a series
marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and
spiritual preparation for the new year.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Thanks for taking time during your busiest season of the year to meet with me this afternoon. Most of all, thank you for helping me change my attitude about chanting Torah on the second day of Rosh HaShanah from mild panic to I-have-some-prep-to-do-but-I-can-handle-this.

With your calm, no-nonsense advice, I know that it's a matter of changing the way I look at and think about the text. Rather than viewing it as one long paragraph, I now see that it's more important to focus on small pieces, to pay careful attention to the Hebrew, and to note the places where the melody repeats itself.

This change in perspective is a change for the better, and I expect to make some solid progress before we meet again on Friday.

Thank you again,
~ JanetheWriter.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a
series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual
preparation for the new year.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Shortly after Angelina Jolie announced that she had undergone a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy because of the presence of a BRCA mutation, I wrote this opinion piece, which provides BRCA basics about the prevalence of the mutations, the risks of developing cancer, and signs that hereditary breast and ovarian cancer may be present in a family.

Among the many comments that were posted in response to the article were several that espoused this sentiment:

I have no intention of even being tested, for reasons including
many already mentioned above, despite knowing that at least one such
mutation runs in my father's family, and having a strong family history
of cancer, including both parents and three of four grandparents dying
of one form of it or another (with my mother having also had breast
cancer earlier on), and my mother's sister also a survivor of yet
another form.

I think the idea of lopping off perfectly healthy body parts to
"prevent" a problem that proper routine screening and attention to one's
health should uncover early is insane, especially a potential problem
that is in no way certain to develop without such surgery.

I won't have the testing because what else on earth could be done to
try to avoid getting cancer that we're not already supposed to be doing,
like eating right, generally taking care of our health, exercising,
etc.? And why should I even open the door to the possibility of the kind of
fatalism that can easily result from knowing that one has such a
mutation? Especially knowing that such fatalism can lower one's immune
system function - which in turn can open the door to a cancer that might
not otherwise have developed.

I understand and respect that others might feel better knowing, and even
taking such drastic, unproven steps, but I also find it appalling on
many levels that anyone should be held up as a "hero" for making the
choice to have this surgery.

Just go live your lives, people. Take care of yourselves the way you
know you should, get your regular mammograms, pap smears, prostate
exams, etc. Know your body, and go see a doctor quickly if you notice a
change; have regular exams. Heck, have *extra* exams, for that matter.
But for heaven's sake, hold onto the body parts the good lord gave you
until there's an actual *reason* (as in actual illness, or real proof
that doing otherwise will actually matter) to part with them.

Although I could have responded otherwise or not at all, I chose to answer with this:

As I noted in my piece, women have many options with regard to dealing
with BRCA mutations. Having watched such a mutation--that she didn't
even know she had--kill my mother in seven weeks time, I saw reason
enough to take action once I knew I carried the same genetic defect. I
do not consider myself, Angelina Jolie or anyone else a hero for
choosing prophylactic surgery. As you suggest, we are just trying to
live our lives. Please do not judge us for our actions.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a
series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual
preparation for the new year.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Sometimes, I wanted clarification from the professor about a specific point.

Other times, my questions were part of a discussion.

At still other times, when I had no questions to ask, I was awed by the thoughtful questions my classmates asked.

Beyond the classroom, however, my relationship with asking is not always quite so clear.

Sometimes, when I don't understand what's being said, I get so flustered I don't know what to ask.

Other times, I'm just too embarrassed to ask

At still other times, (usually if the conversation is about celebrities), I don't care enough to ask.

Most of all, though, when I'm overwhelmed and the world feels like it's spinning out of control, I wonder if I ask too much of myself.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a
series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual
preparation for the new year.

It was a joy to pray and celebrate with friends at each, and in the new year, I look forward to visiting other synagogues (and a URJ camp, too!) to pray and celebrate more good times!

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a
series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual
preparation for the new year.

Friday, August 23, 2013

Whenever someone asks me about being divorced, I usually start with the same answer:

"I literally awoke one day knowing that I couldn't live the rest of my life the way I'd been living it for the last 13 years."

I think I'd known the truth for a really long time, but until that morning, I wasn't ready to deal with the reality.

Today, more than 11 years later, I still feel the elation that came from having awoken in time to remake my life for the better.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam, who offers us endless opportunities to awaken anew, with the potential to re-imagine and reinvent ourselves again and again and again. Amen.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a
series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual
preparation for the new year.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

I consider myself a lifelong learner. Having recently completed a master's degree a full 27 years after finishing my bachelor's degree is, I think, fairly good evidence of this self-characterization.

And then, of course, there's the less academic learning that goes on in the course of any given day. Today, for example, in perusing the URJ's Facebook page, I learned this: Food encased in dough is popular for Rosh
HaShanah because of the visual reminders of being "sealed" in the Book
of Life in the coming year.

I re-posted a slightly edited version of the text on my own Facebook page and, not unexpectedly, a conversation ensued:

Wendy: Hence, kreplach!JanetheWriter: And for Jews in other cultures, there are wontons, empanadas and Hostess fruit pies!

Karen: Saw that too - was thinking ice cream sandwich!

JanetheWriter: And for Indian Jews, samosas!

But back to the more serious learning for a moment...

Now that I'm not reading and studying so rigorously on a regular basis, I find that I do, in fact, miss the intellectual stimulation and the way graduate school continually expanded my horizons. So, I've taken on a new learning challenge. This one, however, has a very short time frame: Between now and the second day of Rosh HaShanah I will learn to chant in Hebrew (using the High Holiday troupe, of course) these four verses from Genesis:

God said, "Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and birds that fly above the earth across the expanse of the sky." God created the great sea monsters, and all the winged birds of every kind. And God saw that this was good. God blessed them, saying, "Be fertile and increase, fill the waters in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth." And there was evening and there was morning a fifth day.

This challenge, too, like my graduate studies, provides further evidence of my status as a lifelong learner. After all, the last time I chanted Torah was at my bat mitzvah -- in 1976!

Gotta go study!

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a
series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual
preparation for the new year.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Each week in welcoming Shabbat, we are commanded to “shamor v’zachor”— to “keep” and to “remember.”Later in the service, we are told of the
various ways to love Adonai, “Thus [we] shall remember to observe all [God’s]
commandments and to be holy….”Still
later, we remember that God redeemed us from slavery in Egypt, and, one more
time, before the Kaddish, we remember those whose finite flame has been
consumed and is no more.

Each year we observe Yom HaZikaron, remembering the Israeli soldiers who died in battle, just as we remember and retell
the story of our Exodus from Egypt annually and, seven weeks later, recall the
presence of our entire community atop Mt. Sinai.

Is it any wonder, then, that, individually, I do my share of
remembering?

Blogging’s not the same without comments from Larry Kaufman,
and here’s my
tribute to him.

And my mother?Nothing’s
the same without her, and I’ve written too many posts to remember each one
distinctly.This one,
though, from early in my remembering of her, quite fittingly includes this
comment from Larry Kaufman:

Jane, I lost my mother eighteen years ago, and my father
more than fifty years ago, and the meditation before Kaddish that continues to
resonate for me is #6 in Mishkan T’filah,
especially these lines:
“…those who live no more echo still within our thoughts and words, and what
they did is part of what we have become.”
You have the special consolation of knowing that what your mother did is part
of what many of us have become.
May these words from Rabbi Levy stand alongside those you quote from Rabbi
Greenberg in bringing you comfort and healing.

In the end, I think it all comes back to “shamor v’zachor”—to keep and to
remember; “zachor v’shamor”—to remember
and to keep.We keep them close so we
can remember them.We remember them so
we can keep them close.Just as they were
part of our circle of life, so, too, are they part of our circle of
remembering.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a
series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish
High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual
preparation for the new year.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Several years ago, I had a falling out with a friend. During Elul that year, she wrote to ask my forgiveness. Although I suppose I forgave her, I never answered her note.

As I pondered what to do, I realized that I didn't miss her presence in my life, nor did I experience any emptiness, remorse or sadness where I thought a friendship once had lived. Instead, I was overcome by the lightness of freedom - a haggadah's worth of freedom. Suddenly, I was free to spend time with other friends, free to enjoy my own space and time in solitude, free from accounting to her for my whereabouts.

With all that freedom, I realized, too, that true friends don't entrap friends, and that as much as she may have needed my forgiveness, so, too, did I need to forgive myself for becoming entangled with someone who wasn't the right friend for me.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this
post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul,
which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a
time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

You've always been my favorite Israeli politician, but I don't think it has anything to do with politics. I think it's because you remind me of my Tante Laura, my grandmother's older sister.. The two of you were about the same age and the way you pulled your hair back with combs was the same way she always did it. And those black clunky shoes? Clearly you had the same sense of style and shopped in the same kinds of stores as she did, even though you lived in Milwaukee and she lived on New York's Lower East Side, on Second Avenue, above Provenzano Lanza Funeral Home.

When I first moved to New York nearly 11 years ago, my mom loved the fact that I, too, lived on Second Avenue, even though it's 30 blocks north of where Tante Laura and Uncle Max lived. Ironically enough, my synagogue is on Second Avenue as well -- even further north, at 79th and Second.

When I was there a few weeks ago, one of the congregants who leads the second-day Rosh HaShanah services asked me if I would chant Torah at that service. Although I haven't chanted Torah in 37 years (yes, the last time was at my bat mitzvah), and his question struck fear in my heart, I understood that just being asked was an honor and I didn't want to say no. And so, Genesis 1:20-23 (the fifth day) is mine. One of the cantors has made a tape for me, and I've got my work cut out for me during the next few weeks.

I'm sure you can appreciate, then, how glad I was to find this quote attributed to you:

Trust
yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with
all your life. Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner
sparks of possibility into flames of achievement.

As I work to learn to chant those few lines of text, I will think of you and trust that I can successfully achieve this goal. Thanks, Golda, for the inspiration to rise up and make the most of myself, which is exactly what the High Holidays are all about.

With much fondness,

~ JanetheWriter.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this
post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul,
which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a
time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

As Benjamin Franklin said in a 1789 letter to Jean-Baptiste Leroy: "In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes."

Indeed, life is fragile and despite our plans, hopes, expectations and dreams, it doesn't always take us down the path we've envisioned for ourselves. Regardless of what path I'm on, though, and no matter where I find myself, I always can count on the presence of the Jewish lens through which I so often see the world.

On my way home from Torah study this afternoon, here's what I saw through the lens:

What things do you count on in your life?

What do you see through your Jewish lens?

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this
post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul,
which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a
time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Earlier this week, I got new glasses and late this afternoon I got a much needed haircut. In the selfie over there on the left, you can see them both.

Of course, I most appreciate not how the glasses look, but how much better I see with them than I did with my old ones.

As for my hair, of course it looks and feels great when someone else--who can reach all the hard-to-reach places--dries it and spends time futzing with each curl so it stands alone and apart from all the ones around it.

And although I do like both the new glasses and the trimmed, more polished look of the haircut, I hope that these aren't the primary things people see or remember about me.

I'd rather be seen as someone who gives up her seat on the bus.

I'd rather be seen as a person who sends birthday cards, get well cards, and just because cards.

I'd rather be seen as the one who offers a compliment, a kind word, a smile, a hug.

I'd rather be seen as willing to hold a spare key for a neighbor, share a good book, cook a meal for a sick friend, and stand up for what's right.

How do others see you?

How do you want to be seen?

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this
post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul,
which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a
time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Earlier today, I had the following IM exchange with a friend and colleague (who gave me permission to share our conversation):

F&C: I just called a
nearby congregation about HHD tickets.
It was…the most off-putting experience of my Jewish life.

JanetheWriter:Oy.What'd they say?

F&C:Well, I called
yesterday and left a message.

JanetheWriter:And today
they called you back?

F&C:Said I'm newish
here, haven't been to services yet, work for the URJ, but am not calling in a
URJ capacity.Just looking for a service
to attend for the holidays because I live nearby.The woman who returned my call said, “Hi,
this is Sylvia from Congregation Oy Vey.I got your message.”I said, “Oh,
hi, thanks for calling me back,” and she said, “Is there something I can help
you with?”

YES, I LEFT IT ALL IN THE MESSAGE.

And then when I asked about services, she told me she can mail me
a packet of info, that it's $180 per person or $360 for a family.

She took my address and that was it. I'm of course not able to pay
$360 for Steve and me to attend services, so I won't be going. And what do you
want to bet no one from that congregation ever follows up with me?

It was the epitome of unwelcoming, un-encouraging, and alienating.

JanetheWriter:I am so
sorry... And how ironic…today's #BlogElul theme is “hear.”

You know you both are welcome in Bellville.Vicky, Carol, my dad and I would LOVE to have
you!

F&C:Thanks.

JanetheWriter:Think about
it...seriously.

F&C:I don't even want
to go that badly, to be honest. But... man, now I'm definitely never going
there.Which is too bad

JanetheWriter:I know...but
totally understandable.

F&C:Just such a bummer.

JanetheWriter:And,
unfortunately, not uncommon

F&C:It's exactly what
we're trying to work against, you know? ME. What *I* help try to work against!And it just happened to me. And it
sucked.

JanetheWriter:It does
suck. It is the worst feeling. It happened to me in LA...it just
makes you want to cry. But don't do
that, please.

What will it take for congregations to hear--I mean really hear--the young
people who come knocking at their doors – and to be as welcoming as Abraham???

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

I believe that among the best words a surgeon can say to someone (today, that someone was me) are these: "Everything looks great. See you next year."

I believe, too, that next year at this time that someone will be Superman Sam and his family.

Ken yehi ratzon.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,
this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of
Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves
as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Each year at the Temple Shaaray Tefila Confirmation service, when Rabbi Stein speaks to the Confirmands, he tells them this story (with my apologies to him, and to Jack and Rose if I haven't gotten all the details quite right).

When he lived in Indianapolis, he used to like to go to the schvitz, where he would sit and schvitz. Frequently, sitting on the bench and schvitzing next to him was Jack, a man who had been in the military and had a lot of stories to tell. And so the two of them would pass the time sharing stories, getting to know each other and schvitzing.

When Jack's mother, Rose, died, Rabbi Stein officiated at the funeral. After the funeral and shiva were over and the two men were back in the schvitz schvitzing, Jack told Rabbi Stein that before the funeral, he'd forgotten to tell him one important thing about his mother.

Before Jack headed off to begin his military service, his mother had told him that he'd encounter many different types of people and situations in the world. No matter what he found, however, she urged him always to remember this bit of wisdom:

Zyyan ʼa ʼyd.
Be a Jew.

Zyyan ʼa mʻntş.
Be a mensch.

Zyyan ştʼarq.
Be strong.

Wisdom, indeed...for the Confirmands, for any young person heading out into the world, and for us, too, as we approach the High Holidays.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,
this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of
Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves
as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Monday, August 12, 2013

As regular readers of this blog know well, I'm fond of most things Jewish -- and most especially contemporary Jewish music. Among my favorite artists in my iTunes library is Peri Smilow, and among her works, When I'm Gone gets repeated often on my iPad.

In addition to loving her beautiful, crystalline voice, I think the lyrics (which together with the music were written by Phil Ochs) are a good fit for today's #BlogElul prompt: Do.

There’s no place in this world where I’ll belong when I’m gone
And I won’t know the right from the wrong when I’m gone
You won’t find me singin’ this song when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t feel the flowing of the time when I’m gone
All the pleasures of love will not be mine when I’m gone
My pen won’t pour out a lyric line when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t breathe the brandied air when I’m gone
And I can’t even worry ‘bout my cares when I’m gone
Won’t be asked to do my share when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t be running from the rain when I’m gone
And I can’t even suffer from the pain when I’m gone
There’s nothing that I can lose or I can gain when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t see the golden of the sun when I’m gone
And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I’m gone
Can’t be singing louder than the guns when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

All my days won’t be dances of delight when I’m gone
And the sands will be shifting from my sight when I’m gone
Can’t add my name into the fight when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t be laughing at the lies when I’m gone
I can’t question how or when or why when I’m gone
Can’t live proud enough to die when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

So, whatever you're doing -- to appreciate our magnificent world and its grandeur, to make your corner of it a better place, to show the people in your life how much they mean to you -- keep on doing it.

Hug your kids.

Dance with them around the living room.

Watch the sun set. If it's from the deck of a cruise ship, good for you. If it's on a street corner near home, put your grocery bags down until the orange orb dips below the horizon.

Ask questions.

Seek answers.

Sign a petition.

Run for office.

Apply to graduate school.

Finish your degree.

Study the petals of a flower in your garden.

Write the poem that's in your head.

Play hookey to play miniature golf.

Go hang gliding.

Ski the expert trail.

Rent a Citi Bike...but don't forget your helmet.

Ride a dirt bike...don't forget your helmet on that one either.

Look for the rainbow after a sun shower.

Sing out loud.

Vote.

Learn to use a potter's wheel.

Find the good in every person.

Tie on a bungee cord.

Take a leap of faith.

Live with no regrets.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,
this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of
Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves
as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

When she was younger, my sister used to say that when it came to choosing an apartment, a job, or a man, she’d just know if it was right on the first walk-through, the first interview, or the first date. She’d feel it in her gut.

I, too, have found that often I know the answer to tough questions because I feel it in my gut. However, it’s one thing to feel it, and another to listen—especially if your gut is telling you he isn’t your bashert, this isn’t your dream job, or the apartment’s not the right one for you.

With time I’ve learned not only to feel what’s in my gut, but also to listen to what that feeling is telling me—even if it’s a message I don’t necessarily want to hear. In 5774, may I have occasion to use these skills and, most of all, may I use them well.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Today’s #BlogElul prompt brought to mind the “Serenity Prayer,” sometimes attributed to theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, and most often associated with Alcoholics Anonymous and other 12-step programs:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

If we believe that the High Holidays present us with an annual opportunity to change the things we can, then it is equally important, I think, to recognize, as well, those things we cannot change—and learn to accept them, or at least change the way we respond to the people behind them. In no particular order, these 10 actions (or inactions) get my hackles up:

Using poor grammar

Waiting to look for one’s MetroCard until one is already in front of the fare box

Unreturned phone calls and unanswered emails

Texting on the subway steps

Leaving a restroom with unwashed hands

Ignoring wait staff, doormen, and other service workers

Allowing elderly riders and those carrying children to stand

Tossing cigarette butts in the gutter

Using the express check-out when one’s basket includes too many items

Having personal phone conversations in public places

Although I try not to “go there” myself, I cannot change the people for whom these and other disagreeable (to me) actions are regular habits. I can, however, attempt to accept that others may have valid reasons for "going there," and try, really try, not to be so judgmental…even if it is only in my head.

Note to self: Try to be more accepting of people and their actions, remembering that it's impossible to know where they're coming from—or where they're going.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,
this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of
Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves
as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Several months ago, I joined Weight Watchers (for the first time
ever) and in the last 12 weeks or so, I’ve lost
approximately half the amount I need to, on my way to attaining a healthy goal
weight. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve
been diligent—lots of fruits and veggies (zero points), lots of water, lots of
tracking, not enough treadmill, and lots of planning, portion
control, and asking myself if something is “worth the points” before I dig in.

As much of an eye-opener and a challenge as losing weight
has been, I know it will be even harder to keep it off.Most of all, though, I’ve learned that weight
loss and weight management are all about behavior modification—changing the way we
act toward food.

In that way, I think the High Holidays are a lot like Weight
Watchers.They’re all about heightened
awareness of our behavior coupled with willingness and determination to change, when necessary, the way
we act toward others.And, just as we
can experience weight loss when we act differently toward food, so, too, when
we act differently toward each other can we experience richer, deeper and more
meaningful relationships.

And, just as Weight Watchers knows that there will be weeks in which the needle on the scale moves in the wrong
direction, so does our tradition know that teshuvah is hard work and that we likely will falter and miss the
mark from time to time.Nonetheless, in the same way that
I return to Weight Watchers week after week to keep my actions with food on track, Judaism allows us to continue our work to act more kindly toward others even once the High Holidays are over--letting us weigh in throughout the year to make sure the needle on the scale is moving in the right direction.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the
days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Today my #BlogElul essay is over on the blog associated with ReformJudaism.org. I hope you'll click over there to read what I've got to say...it's a topic that's near and dear to my heart and if you think about it, you probably can guess what it is. But don't just guess, take a click over there and see for yourself!